Death of a Master
by Karama9
Summary: A short story in three parts exploring the events immediately following the Hard Master's death from the perspective of the Soft Master and He Who Will Eventually be Known as Snake Eyes. Set in my usual AU Light as these are former Arashikage bonuses.
1. Chapter 1

More former Arashikage bonuses, in three parts again (I seem to have a thing for the number 3). Many thanks again to all the reviewers who agreed to share this by letting me post it.

Between the fact he actually thinks Tommy murdered the Hard Master and the fact he ordered the clan to kill or capture him, the Soft Master was not really gaining any fans with Arashikage for a while. I felt like redeeming him a little by sharing how all this looks like from his point of view – or at least how the death of his brother looked and felt like. So, this is in the Soft Master's point of view.

I still don't own GI Joe.

* * *

The arrow was so fast I only saw a blur right until it embedded itself in the wall opposite that through which it had entered the dojo.

In contrast, the spray of blood that follows it as it exits my brother's body seems to be moving slower than physics would allow. Every drop, every detail stands out. I even note a white silhouette running off outside, from catching a glimpse of it through the window. I also notice every scratch on the wall, every cluster of fibre in the screen behind my brother, and my brother's student's head turning first to the window and then to his Sensei.

I hear myself screaming my brother's name and before I know I've moved, I'm cradling him in my arms and the World resumes its normal speed. He feels even smaller than usual… I was teasing him just yesterday about being nothing but skin and bone; he had responded, as usual, by offering to punch my wannabe sumo belly to demonstrate he also had muscles.

I try to press against the wound to stop the blood, but he's hardly bleeding at all. He puts one of his hands on mine and we lock eyes.

"No good," he mutters. "Heart. Phoenix."

My eyes fill with tears and I nod. The arrow went through his heart and he's only holding on because he's put himself in a phoenix trance.

Once I've nodded, he starts muttering again.

"Don't be too hard on my nephew." I frown in puzzlement, as much at the message as at the fact he's saying it so well, as though it was vitally important that I catch and understand every word. "He'll have to live a lie to find the truth."

"Tommy?" I ask. "Why would I…"

I stop with my question unfinished. The Hard Master will not answer: the incomprehensible request for ME not to be too hard on Tommy, when he used to always complain I was too lenient with our nephew, were his last words. I'm staring into eyes that can no longer see me: the Phoenix trance only bought him less than a minute... my brother is dead.

The phrase repeats itself in my mind in a loop, as if to make up for the fact none of the words in it are strong enough to convey what just happened. I gather his thin frame against my chest, not so much hugging him as trying to get some comfort myself. I'm shaking with sobs, and it almost feels like he's moving himself.

My brother… ah! A lot of people have brothers; I had a second half. We completed each other in every way: our strengths, weaknesses, personalities... all in perfect balance. Without him, I'm less than half of what I was.

I can't do this: I can't continue on alone, I can't lead without him. Even now, I don't know what to do. I don't even understand what he tried so hard to tell me with his last breath.

Dead. He's dead, he's gone, I've lost him. The expression he has now is the last one he'll make on his own. No more scowls for me to snicker at, no more rare smiles for Tommy to stare at in disbelief. He'll never teach again, he'll never figure out what to do and how, he'll never explain anything to anyone ever again.

My hands close in fists under him and I deposit him on the floor. I wipe at my eyes to clear my vision and look around, searching for a clue that will tell me who did this. I don't care right now that my brother always discouraged revenge, I want to know who was the idiot who killed him and thought he'd get away with it. My eyes fall on the arrow and as my brains register that my brother was killed by an arrow that went through a solid wall, at an angle from which my brother would not have been visible through the window, I spot the Arashikage symbol on the shaft.

It feels as though the arrow went through my heart as well when things click into place.

There is only one archer who can locate and hit targets by sound only, through solid walls. The same archer who is also the only one to use our branded arrows – the ones he demanded to have, the ones nobody else is allowed to use because our smith wants as few of them to engrave as possible. The same archer who we've been so worried would eventually snap and leave us, because in all honesty, anyone else would have long ago. The same man I saw running off right after the arrow was shot. The same man my brother just asked me to forgive.

Tommy.

Our nephew... for all intents and purposes, our surrogate son. We spent more time with him while he was growing up than his father did. The Hard Master was the one who insisted we stopped trying to convince him to cheat on his seeing ear training and just give him official breaks. I was the one who punished the kids who went out of their way to make him trip or walk into things during that same training.

I was the one who kept meeting with his school director to explain why he was more often absent than present in class. My brother came up with the excuses and I delivered them.

His father once took off to the home of an enemy clan after an attack against us, and the Hard Master and I were the ones to forcibly keep his frantic 14 year old son from following.

It was I who recovered his medals from the uniform he just tossed into his bag when he changed into his mourning robes upon coming back from the War. I still have them because he never so much as enquired about them. It was my brother who tried everything to get him home faster so he could attend the funeral and who spent weeks trying to figure out a way to avoid having to make him earn wages – both efforts failed, but it was not for lack of trying.

"Tommy," I breathe, "how could you…?"

Bits of answers flash in my mind: countless things that made Tommy angry (it was never particularly difficult to do), ranging from being made to eat junk food like all the other kids at a birthday party for one of his classmates to the latest clash about our hiring criminal clients; several incidents where my brother was cold to him, because he didn't know how else to act; and, finally, all too many occasions where Tommy demonstrated he was, after all, his father's son: quick to anger, impetuous, and not one to shy away from violence.

Tommy grew up being treated almost like a Prince – he was the only heir, and as such, he got a lot of attention. He was very good, and that meant this attention translated into all too many praises and too much admiration. The main reason the Hard Master was always so strict with him was to balance the feedback he got and try to avoid his becoming too full of himself. It's debatable whether it worked – Tommy could sometimes go from thinking he was the greatest person in the World to thinking he was worthless and back all within the space of ten minutes.

He also grew up with the knowledge he would eventually lead the clan, and translated that for himself as an incredible amount of pressure: I found out just recently that he honestly thought his not being the best was completely unacceptable and put the clan in danger. And what did the Hard Master do in the past couple of years? Caused him to stop learning and improving, turned him into an employee at the service of strangers, taught a student who eventually defeated Tommy in a duel, went out of his way to ensure Tommy knew this defeat was inevitable, and just now, tried to talk this student into helping to lead the clan.

The question of how Tommy could do this eventually morphs into wondering how we didn't see it coming. Again, the answer presents itself easily: up to tonight, the boy had been loyal to a fault. I would have forgiven him in a heartbeat if he'd finally caved in to one of the other clans and left us. I would not have even been angry with him if he'd pull his first teacher's trick and faked his death to get away for a while. He never did either, however: he just kept going, ignoring the other clans making fun of him, working himself into exhaustion just because we asked him to, and using leftover energy he didn't actually have left over to try and not be an embarrassment to us by training until he collapsed. As if he could have ever embarrassed us, as if he wasn't our pride and joy.

But everybody has a breaking point. The Young Master was already stretched to the limit by what we were imposing on him and what he was imposing on himself; he was already hurt by the false idea that his friend was his uncle's favourite and was replacing him in my brother's heart; he was already angry with that friend for berating him about killing rodents, for refusing to earn wages and just for being so good; he was still angry with us for giving him criminal clients because as much as we had tried to explain it, he couldn't believe we had done it for his own good.

And tonight, he heard us talk to his brother. He heard us begging him to stay, offering him a position of authority. My brother even almost made it sound like he would be the real head of the clan with the Young Master as a figurehead. It was deceptive of him: that was never the intent. We wanted Tommy's brother to assist him, not replace him. But replacing him WAS precisely what the Young Master's overactive imagination and paranoia feared we wanted, and ironically, he fell for the deception aimed at his brother.

So, he snapped. I understand it completely – I've been worried he would leave for a long time and I now dearly wish he had, instead of all the resentment, all the anger just building up until this explosion. I understand it, but I can't forgive him.

I clench my teeth. My whole family died tonight – my brother and I finally finished killing everything that was our nephew, and the being that we left in his place has murdered my brother in return. I now need to make sure there are no other victims.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that the order I'm about to give is more about revenge – revenge for my brother and for my own broken heart – than about protecting the people who now only have me to look up to. I dismiss the thought. My brother and I completed each other precisely because we were different: I'm emotional where he was rational; I still believe in everything I was raised to believe in, where he could never be bothered with the sealing ceremonies; he never believed in vengeance, and although I used to think I didn't either, it turns out that I do.

My brother's student's voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Tommy?" He asks. "You don't think…?"

Tommy… he's not Tommy. Tomisaburo is just as dead as the Hard Master, and the monster he's become has no right to my affection.

"Who else could shoot with such precision?" I ask bitterly. "Who else would have access to his arrows? The Young Master's guilt would be obvious even if we hadn't seen him running away. Bring him to me, alive or not. The rest of the clan will receive the same instructions."


	2. Chapter 2

Second part: sorry, this one really IS short - it just didn't need to be longer. Please enjoy anyway. The third and last part will be posted tomorrow.

* * *

"Who else could shoot with such precision? Who else would have access to his arrows? The Young Master's guilt would be obvious even if we hadn't seen him running away. Bring him to me, alive or not. The rest of the clan will receive the same instructions," the Soft Master said.

The student took his eyes off the prone form of his teacher and settled them on the man who was kneeling next to him. The voice had been deceptively steady: the Soft Master was shaking, both in anger and in sorrow, and his face was closed, expressionless. It looked more like a mask than anything else, fixed in a purposeful expression that strived to deny the emotions that were making the rest of the man tremble.

"But Master, the Hard Master said…" he started.

The older man cut him off.

"My brother was dying when he uttered those words," he said, his voice breaking as his face finally lost its impassive expression and twisted in rage. "Don't be too hard on my nephew? Live a lie to find the truth? He wasn't rational. Or would you deny the obvious?"

He brandished the arrow that had pierced his brother's heart as he said this. The student flinched but otherwise did not move.

"It could have been stolen," he tried.

"They're guarded. Nobody could steal from his supplies."

"How do you know it's his? It could belong to anybody else in the clan, couldn't it?"

"The Young Master is the only one to use branded arrows. He kicked up a stink when he was 15 because everybody else could get their favourite weapons branded, but he couldn't. The branded arrows are his. Nobody else uses them. The smith doesn't give them to anyone else because each one that goes out means another one that needs to be engraved. It's HIS."

The student bit his lips, fighting back an absurd urge to laugh. He could absolutely picture Tommy making a fuss over that.

"Maybe it's a used one that was stolen from wherever it was used."

"Enough," the Soft Master said, snarling. "Nobody else would have been able to shoot through a wall, from far enough that my brother could not hear them through the open window! Nobody else would have shot straight through the heart without being able to see the target!"

"But the Hard Master was imitating someone! Tommy wouldn't have recognized him!"

"I don't actually know whether the Young Master would have been fooled by the imitation. He might have been able to tell the difference, or have located the Hard Master before he donned the chameleon's mantle; he might have been targeting the person the Hard Master was imitating. I find his crime just as repulsive either way: the Hard Master was imitating YOU."

The student's eyes widened briefly before he dropped them again. He knew he was out of argument, he realized that he was just refusing to accept a painful reality, but he couldn't help himself.

"But there's no way… he wouldn't. I know he wouldn't. So did the Hard Master."

The Soft Master glared daggers at the young man. He felt like screaming at his brother's student that he had no right to act so childishly, that he had only lost a teacher he was about to abandon and a friend he couldn't be bothered to help with his duties, as opposed to a brother who was practically an extension of himself and a beloved nephew he had helped raise from infancy.

"Don't you think I'm just as heartbroken as you are?" he said instead through clenched teeth. "Denying the facts will not get us anywhere. I promise you, if he's brought to me, I will listen to what he has to say. But I will NOT order everyone to risk their lives for the sake of bringing him in. They will be much safer if they have the option to kill him. By running away, he has waived the right to be heard. I will still grant him the opportunity if I can, but not at the cost of other lives. Now go. I won't tolerate any more discussion on this. GO!"

The student sighed and left, running in the direction his friend had been going. He wasn't at all reassured by the Soft Master's promise, and even though he knew he was just in denial, he still could not wrap his head around the idea of Tommy murdering his own uncle or trying to kill his friend.

He wasn't sure what he'd do if he found him, but he certainly couldn't just sit back and let the rest of the clan hunt alone – they would almost certainly kill him on the spot, denying him even the thin chance to be heard the Soft Master had just promised.


	3. Chapter 3

This is the third of the three scenes following the Hard Master's death, this one from Snake Eyes' point of view. Contains a very minor spoiler for Arashikage if you haven't read it yet – namely, what Snake Eyes is thinking at this point of the story.

* * *

I finally lose the two other members of the clan that ran into me earlier and sigh in relief before groaning in despair.

For all the screaming they did when they found out I wanted to bring him in so he could have a chance to explain himself, about how they knew him better than me and even THEY could open their eyes and see he'd become a traitor, and for all the ranting about various anecdotes that put Tommy in a bad light and supposedly demonstrated he had been a monster at heart right from the start, they did manage to convey one truth.

Namely, the Soft Master's promise was meaningless: whether or not he lets him say anything won't make any difference, they're all completely convinced he's guilty. The only difference it will make if he's brought in rather than killed outright when he's found is to prolong things and possibly make his death more painful if the Soft Master forces him to commit Seppuku and proceeds to not decapitate him and to let him die slowly. Judging by the two men I just shook off, the clan's state of mind right now makes this a distinct possibility.

If I only knew whether he really does deserve this or not, it would make it a lot easier to decide what to do next. I can't believe he would have killed his uncle, or me since I may have been the target, but I do realize my denial is not rooted in reason. When I examine the facts logically, I'm force to draw the exact same conclusion as the clan. We could be wrong, though, couldn't we?

I clench my teeth – I'm being silly. It's as clear a case as anyone could wish and even if he did get a fair trial, Tommy would almost certainly be found guilty. I need to stop thinking of him as the man he was in the war: he's changed. I knew that much even before tonight.

On the other hand, I certainly would never have suspected he could have changed THAT much. Killing animals for fun, yes, I witnessed his doing that and I can wrap my head around it. I don't like it, but a lot of people hunt for sports – the fact I find it distasteful doesn't make it a heinous crime. But killing a member of his own family? I can't believe it.

I scowl at myself and try to brush the doubts away. Alright, it's a shock, but he did it. All the evidence says he did it: the arrow could only have been his and the person who shot it could only have been him; we know he was there because we saw him running away; finally, we know why he did it – he thought the Hard Master was about to make me the heir in his place.

So why can't I stand the thought of killing him or even just sitting this one out and letting his clan deal with him? Here I am, running through the City, searching for him, and I have no idea what I'm going to do if I find him.

If he really has killed his uncle, there's no telling how dangerous he's become. Even beyond the natural desire to avenge my Sensei's death, the right thing to do would be to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else and kill him as humanely as I can.

The problem is that despite all the evidence, there's still that part of me that can't believe he did that. I've learned a lot of things in the past couple of years, and one of them has been to trust my instincts. Right now, those instincts are telling me that Tommy is innocent. Now, at the same time, my brains are telling me my instincts are on crack, but still...

I'm still debating with myself and STILL not reaching any kind of satisfying conclusion when I find him. By this point, I'm so desperate for a solution I won't regret that I'm picturing losing a fight to him as the ideal scenario because then, he'd get away without it being my fault.

So, of course, I find him fast asleep on a bench. I almost run right past him and I come to such a sudden stop that what few people are around at this late hour turn to look at the pair of us. I sit down and try to look like I just needed a break until they look away again.

I hold back another groan and stare at him. I wish he'd wake up, but I can't wake him up myself, that'd be just like deciding to let him go: a possibility I still can't quite rule out.

Technically speaking, killing him right now would be easy, and I can do it without hurting him at all. I just need to apply a bit of pressure at the right place, and it wouldn't even look like I'm doing anything lethal to the passers by. He'd just be dead on the bench rather than asleep.

In reality, it's apparently impossible since I can't seem to so much as move my hand towards the spot I need. Maybe I do need to trust my instincts…

The fact is, logic be damned, I cannot believe he did this and I can't stand the thought of killing a man who saved my life. I owe him a life debt; I need to honour it. Right?

Right. Good. One decision down: I'm not killing him. Next up: do I bring him to the Soft Master? If I do, he'll still die and it'll still be my fault, so again, my life debt forces my hand: I can't bring him in, no matter what the Soft Master ordered.

Alright then, that leaves option three and four: go away and pretend I didn't find him, or help him escape. I look at him again and sigh: he's out cold. I suppose it's not surprising – we have been chasing him for over 72 hours. That eliminates option three: if I just leave him here, someone else is bound to find him and he'll be killed, again basically by my fault.

I sigh again, this time in relief: finally, a decision. The impression that I used my life debt as a way to make the choice easier crosses my mind but I dismiss it: it's a life debt, I HAVE to repay it.

I pinch the sleeping point below his ear and take out the pad of sticky notes and the pen I was given to leave coded messages to the other members of the clan if needed. I stare at both for a while, wondering what to write.

I need to save Tommy, but what if he really has become the murderer his clan believes him to be? I know the main reason I can't believe it is that I don't want to, I'm not blind to my own thoughts and feelings. How do I limit the damage I may do by saving him? Maybe I can direct his anger at me, so that if he really is on a rampage, I will be his target as opposed to anyone else. It's not the most solid of plans, but it's the best I can come with for now and I don't have time to dawdle on this – another Arashikage clan member could jump out of the shadows at any time.

The idea also has the added bonus that if he's angry with me and tries to murder me, it will be much easier for me to finally accept he really has turned into a monster and kill him. Finally, making him believe that even I want to see him dead will probably convince him he needs to disappear very far from here better than anything else could, so if he IS innocent, convincing him that I'm sure he's guilty and that I wish I could have killed him is actually the best thing I can do for him.

I think for a few seconds on how best to phrase something that expresses I wanted to kill him but couldn't because I owe him, and that I think he's a traitor and a murderer, but I can't come up with anything concise enough to fit on a sticky note until I remember Tommy used to amaze me by the things he could infer – rightly or wrongly - from the most innocent monosyllabic answers.

I write down "My debt is paid", sign and carry him to the nearest homeless shelter. I install him on one of the beds and stick the note to his chest. I know for a fact that he'll interpret it just like I want him to and that he'll be completely furious, but hopefully also spurred to leave the country and find safety if he's innocent or to come right for me if he really has become a cold blooded murderer.

I disappear back into the night, hoping I never see my brother again and cursing at the fact it has come to this.

Fin


End file.
